


The Way We Weren't

by dsa_archivist



Category: due South
Genre: M/M, Romance, Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2000-01-21
Updated: 2000-01-21
Packaged: 2018-11-10 14:42:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,646
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11128950
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dsa_archivist/pseuds/dsa_archivist
Summary: A 40 something Fraser comes face to face with his past and lets go of loves left behind





	The Way We Weren't

**Author's Note:**

> Note from Speranza, the archivist: this story was once archived at [Due South Archive](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Due_South_Archive). To preserve the archive, I began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in June 2017. I tried to reach out to all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [Due South Archive collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/duesoutharchive).

The Way We Weren't

 

 

Late one night recently when I couldn't sleep, I sat up and watched 'The  
Way We Were' for the first time - old romantic that I am. The final  
scene inspired this story. The rest of it came out of my interest in  
exploring what would happen when the boy didn't get the boy in the end.  
My inspiration for a partner for Ray (kudos to anyone who recognises  
him - and his clothes) was inspired by a particular shot in the second  
episode in series two of Twitch City (if you want to know which shot,  
ask me) and fuelled by images created by my fevered mind after reading  
Hard Core Road Show by Noel S Baker.  
  
Comments welcome at  
  
  
  
 **The Way We Weren't  
**  
by Carol Trendall ****  
  
  
 _Toronto, November 2007_  
  
 ****The big Bell Jet Ranger held so steady that Benton  
Fraser could not say for sure if the skids had touched the ground. He  
turned questioning eyes to the pilot, then touched his right foot to  
the talk button on the floor before speaking into the microphone attached  
to his headphones.  
  
"Have we landed?"  
  
The pilot said nothing, just flashed him a toothy grin and reached for  
the ignition switch. Still grinning at Fraser he flicked it off, letting  
the engine whine to a stop, the great blades slowly spinning down. He  
pulled his headphones off and hung them in place on the console before  
speaking.  
  
"What are you waiting for, Ben," he grinned as he opened his  
door and slid from the chopper, "we landed ages ago."  
  
Fraser shook his head affectionately and smiled. This was a game they  
had played many times before. Eli Greycloud was the best helicopter  
pilot in the south east of Canada and he loved to tease his passengers  
this way. It was sometimes infuriating, but always in a way that managed  
to endear him to every one he encountered. When they first met seven  
years earlier, Fraser had been instantly reminded of another, equally  
infuriating person who had once shared his life, but he had long since  
ceased wondering if that was the reason for his attraction to this cheeky  
Cree. Still shaking his head, he pulled off his own headphones and followed  
Eli onto the snow-covered tarmac.  
  
He rounded the front of the Jet Ranger in time to see Eli haul his pack  
from the back seat and drop it on the ground in front of him, his long  
black hair spilling over his shoulders as he moved. For a moment Fraser  
considered tossing it back into the chopper and demanding Eli take him  
home again. But his sense of duty would not allow it. He sighed, his  
breath misting in the cold winter air. He had to do this. Only when  
it was done would he let Eli take him back to the beautiful, frigid mountains  
where they had made their home.  
  
"Eli ..." he began, a wave of emotion choking off anything  
he would have said.  
  
Eli straightened and tossed his hair back over his shoulders, then moved  
towards Fraser. "I can stay, Ben," he said gently, touching  
a hand to the Mountie's arm and sliding it down until he held his gloved  
fingers. "You know I don't like the thought of you dealing with  
all this on your own."  
  
Fraser's leather clad fingers curled around Eli's bare hand and drew  
him closer. His voice was gentle but spoke of old pain. "We talked  
about this already. I have to do it on my own. " He squeezed Eli's  
hand. "I have to deal with these ... demons ... before we can go  
on with the rest of our lives."  
  
Eli smiled sadly and sighed before speaking. "I know. I just �  
worry � This is such a big thing and after all these years �  
ah, Ben �" His arms moved up to enfold the other man.  
  
Fraser let Eli gather him into his arms and hold him, rocking him slightly.  
The comfort was welcome. Ever since he had received the call summoning  
him to Toronto he had dreaded this day. Despite his best efforts over  
the past two weeks, now that the day was here he was not sure that he  
was at all prepared for it.  
  
Ever since he learned that Victoria Metcalfe had been arrested for jewel  
theft in Toronto, his feelings had been a confused mess. He had heard  
nothing of her since the night she was borne away on a train, leaving  
him bleeding on a Chicago railway platform, shattered more by her betrayal  
than the bullet that had stopped him going with her. That Victoria was  
finally in custody did not surprise nor concern him in itself. In fact,  
it was a relief. The chain of events that had been set in motion when  
she appeared unexpectedly in Chicago had hung over him ever since, a  
sense of non-completion niggling at parts of his life for more than ten  
years.  
  
It had taken several years for the pain of Victoria's betrayal to abate  
\- several years before Fraser had been able to allow himself to love  
again. When love did finally come it tore away the few remaining threads  
that still tied him to Victoria Metcalfe - threads that had been present  
since their first encounter on a snow-blown mountainside almost twenty  
years before. Ironically that new love, too, had bloomed in the midst  
of a snow storm on the side of a mountain, an unexpected but welcome  
addition to his quest for the hand of Franklin.  
  
There was more to Fraser's trepidation than a fear of seeing Victoria  
again. He was nervous about seeing his former partner again. When  
he had learned that Ray Vecchio, too, was called to give evidence he  
panicked. Although he and Ray had made peace with each other and with  
the havoc wreaked by Victoria, it remained there between them, never  
to be spoken of. At least now they would have the chance to finally  
lay it to rest. But what of Fraser's feelings for Ray?  
  
After Ray's disappearance into the world of undercover work with barely  
a word, Fraser had promised himself that when he had the chance he would  
tell his friend of his feelings for him. Sadly, when the time came there  
were too many other factors - criminals to apprehend and scores to be  
settled. Then Ray took up with Stella Kowalski and there was little  
point in Fraser baring his soul. It had remained untold. Only one person  
knew his secret.  
  
"You were in love with both of them, Ben." Eli whispered a  
little later, his hand and stroking Fraser's back through the layers  
of wool and flannel. "They both meant something to you at one time.  
This can't be easy."  
  
Fraser shuddered and tightened his arms around his lover, wondering anew  
when he would stop being surprised by this wonderful man. Although five  
years his junior, Eli was wise in ways beyond his years and understanding  
in a way that bordered on psychic. In the seven years they had been  
together they had shared much and Eli gave him succour in his darkest  
moments, loving him unreservedly and unashamedly.  
  
In the fledgling days of their relationship as they stuttered and stumbled  
towards what they now had, Fraser had confessed every intimate detail  
of his life to Eli. He hid nothing when he told of his first meeting  
with Victoria and the near betrayal of his duty. He was equally candid  
about her re-entry to his life and the damage she caused to both he and  
Ray. Eli was the only person to whom he had confessed his long abiding  
love for Ray Vecchio and his lover had accepted the information without  
judgement. Eli knew also of the many months Fraser had spent searching  
for the hand of Franklin with Ray Kowalski and knew the details of how  
two equally damaged and emotionally insecure men had come together, finding  
comfort where they had not thought to seek it before.  
  
"Yes, I was," Fraser answered eventually, drawing away and  
gazing into Eli's warm brown eyes. "Which is why I need to do this  
alone. After this I can officially mark that part of my life 'case closed'  
and get on with loving you the way you deserve."  
  
Eli smiled and ruffled Fraser's hair. "You already love me enough."  
  
Fraser let him slip away, waiting while Eli pulled a suitbag from the  
rear of the helicopter. He handed it over and Fraser took it silently,  
testing the weight of his dress reds with his right hand. It had been  
years since he had worn them. There was little need for them in the  
small town of Moose Factory where he and Eli had made their home six  
years ago. Even now, they weren't strictly required for this court appearance,  
but a tendril of nostalgia had wormed its way into his heart and he wanted  
to wear them when he saw Ray. Just like old times.  
  
Collecting Fraser's pack from the snow, Eli helped him slip it onto his  
shoulders and then stepped away.  
  
"I'll go then, Ben. I'll be back tomorrow evening to pick you up."  
  
"Thank you, Eli," he said a little breathlessly, then reached  
forward to curl his left around Eli's head, drawing him in for a tender  
kiss. "I love you," he whispered against Eli's cheek, clutching  
a hank of thick black hair in his hand.  
  
"I know you do," Eli said, pulling Fraser's hand away and kissing  
the palm, through layers of leather and wool. "And I love you."  
  
The two men stepped away from each other and Fraser strode across the  
tarmac, listening as Eli's Jet Ranger whined to life again.  
  
  
It had been some years since Fraser had been in Toronto, but he found  
his way to the Four Seasons Hotel without any difficulty. The facade  
was imposing and the red-coated doorman intimidating as he waved Fraser  
inside with gold trimmed gloves. Aware that his worn denim and flannel  
was out of place in such a hotel, he made his way to the reception desk,  
cringing at the thought of Canadian and US government funds being spent  
on such an expensive hotel. There had been no option. When Victoria  
was apprehended, hasty arrangements were made between the RCMP and the  
US Marshals and a Toronto court date set. It was no-one's fault that  
Victoria's court case coincided with the Toronto Film Festival and the  
only rooms available were in five star hotels.  
  
Once Fraser was checked into his room he changed quickly into his red  
serge, pleased to find it still fit perfectly. Standing in front of  
a full-length mirror, he straightened his lanyard and resettled his Sam  
Browne and he was instantly comfortable, although he still thought the  
hotel far too opulent for an overnight stay. But there was no time  
for worrying about that, he was due soon at a briefing with the RCMP  
lawyers. Taking a deep breath, he gave a final, cursory glance at his  
reflection, squared his shoulders and then headed off to deal with his  
past.  
  
Fraser expected Ray to have checked in by the time he returned. He would  
leave a note at the desk in the hope that his old friend could meet with  
him that evening. Fraser had not seen Ray since the other man had headed  
south with Stella and he had headed north with Kowalski on their quest  
for the hand of Franklin. Ray and Fraser kept in touch, exchanging letters  
and Christmas cards and even they occasional photograph. Ray and Stella  
still lived in Florida, their bowling alley doing surprisingly good business.  
Their three children were all at school now and Fraser had spoken to  
all three of them one time when Ray had called to tell him of his mother's  
death.  
  
He had long since come to terms with his feelings for Ray Vecchio, helped  
in part by his short, but nonetheless sweet liaison with Stanley Raymond  
Kowalski during their quest and then later eased to an infrequent thought  
by the completion and contentment he had found with Eli Greycloud. But  
still the prospect of actually seeing Ray after all this time did not  
sit easy with him.  
  
The fact that it was Victoria Metcalfe who had brought them to this point  
was an important factor. He and Ray had rarely spoken about what had  
transpired after her appearance in their lives and they had never discussed  
Fraser's feelings for her. Although anything he and the dark-hearted  
beauty had shared was long gone, the thought of seeing her, being in  
the same room with her, filled him with something approaching real fear.  
  
In the weeks after he learned of her arrest and his required appearance  
in Toronto for the courtcase, Fraser went over every aspect of his time  
with Victoria, examining it from all angles and finally accepting that  
he would deal with his feelings on the day. He prepared himself as best  
he could.  
  
With these thoughts in his head, he made his way through the hotel, ready  
to face whatever the day's events could deal him. Holding the lobby  
door open for a stern woman in a business suit, Fraser tipped his hat  
and waited until she passed, before stepping out into the cold Toronto  
air. At the top of the stairs he took a deep breath, satisfied that  
he was in control. _I am a Mountie_ , he told himself.  
  
From out of nowhere, the concierge appeared and suddenly pushed past  
him, racing down the wide stone steps towards a black limousine. Frowning  
at the man's rudeness and paying scant attention to the growing crowd  
of people at the foot of the stairs, Fraser began the short journey down  
the steps only to be stopped suddenly in his tracks as a familiar head  
emerged from the long black car.  
  
He realised suddenly that he had not prepared himself for every eventuality.  
  
"Ray."  
  
The word escaped his lips before he could stop it. Some remote part  
of his brain registered that it sounded like a benediction.  
  
  
&&&  
  
Toronto in winter.  
  
Ray shuddered, pulling his overcoat closer around his throat. He didn't  
know why, it wasn't cold. The heating in the long black limousine was  
so high that his companion had stripped off layers and now sat with sleeves  
rolled up.  
  
"You OK, Ray?" Warm dark eyes twinkled at him from the opposite  
side of the too large vehicle.  
  
"Yeah, I'm fine," he replied, squeezing the hand that snaked  
across the pale chamois seat between them, before turning to look at  
the slick city streets as they whipped by. "I was just thinking  
about the last time I was in Toronto."  
  
The last time he had been in Toronto was with Benton Fraser - but that  
was so long ago - more than ten years now. His thoughts drifted away  
as a bark of childish laughter erupted from his companion on the other  
side of the cavernous interior.  
  
"But I bet you weren't picked up in a fancy black limo!" This  
time the laughter was almost a giggle.  
  
A smile pulled at the corners of Ray's mouth and he turned to look into  
liquid brown eyes that twinkled with delight at the novelty to which  
they had been treated. "Yeah, well, last time I was here I wasn't  
travelling with a *'Big Star'*." Leaning across the butter coloured  
leather, he pressed a quick kiss to the laughing mouth of his lover.  
  
"Yeah, that's right," his companion joked, self-deprecation  
in his voice. "Dan McKillop, director extraordinaire. Watch out  
Spielberg."  
  
Ray reached for Dan's hand and held it between his two, turning slightly  
in his seat. "You're a good director, Dan. I don't know shit about  
movies and stuff, but the Toronto Film Festival invited you to show your  
film *and* talk about it." His voice lowered to almost a whisper.  
"You gotta be doing *something* right."  
  
Dan smiled shyly. "I guess you're right." He flopped back  
against the seat and stared at the ceiling. "I still can't believe  
people like what I do. I mean *I* like it, but I don't really expect  
other people to, not to mention paying me lots of money for the privilege."  
Sitting forward again, he gestured at the vehicle they travelled in.  
"And to pick us up in a limo � it's � it's amazing."  
He shook his head and stared into the middle distance. "Well �  
fuck me �" Dan's voice trailed off in wonder.  
  
Ray reached for him again and whispered hotly into his ear. "I  
just might later."  
  
Dan laughed, but anything he would have said was lost as their chauffeur's  
voice sounded through the intercom.  
  
"We're approaching the Four Seasons Hotel, Mr McKillop."  
  
  
&&&  
  
  
Fraser watched in rapt fascination as the familiar form of Stanley Raymond  
Kowalski emerged from the depths of a long black limousine. There could  
be no mistaking him. His hair might be a little less blonde and a little  
less spiky and his dress sense may have matured, but he still moved with  
the same catlike grace that had always set Fraser's heart pounding.   
As it did now. Even after ten years.  
  
It took a moment for him to register that most of the people in the crowd  
around the vehicle carried cameras and tape recorders. Voices rang out  
from the throng, but he couldn't make out the words. Eventually, one  
carried to him, louder than the others.  
  
"Mr McKillop, how does it feel to have your first feature film meet  
such favour?"  
  
It was only then that Fraser noticed Ray's companion. Shorter than Ray,  
with thick black hair and a five o'clock shadow he was dressed simply  
in jeans and an oversized golden yellow sweater. He smiled shyly as  
he answered the reporter's questions, glancing at Ray from time to time.  
The pride in the smile Ray returned was obvious, even from a distance.  
There was no mistaking it, they were lovers. Fraser was rooted to the  
spot.  
  
He watched while Ray's companion answered questions. When the reporters  
had their fill, they thanked him for his time and moved away. With the  
space between them suddenly clear, it only took a moment for Ray's eyes  
to register the flash of red at the top of the stairs. Fraser felt heat  
rise up his body as Ray's eyes lifted and eventually met his.  
  
Then suddenly he was climbing the stairs, taking them two at a time,  
stopping in front of Fraser with wide eyes. The two men flowed into  
a hug without realising they were doing it, holding each other for long  
moments. Fraser pulled back eventually, clutching Ray's upper arms as  
he cast his eyes over his friend, nodding approval at the slight changes  
in his dress style. Gone was the scruffy, torn denim, replaced by new,  
neat jeans. The dull, misshapen t-shirts he favoured had been replaced  
with a fine black wool zip neck sweater. A charcoal coloured cashmere  
overcoat completed the elegant look, providing a perfect contrast to  
the slightly spiky dark blonde hair now shot with strands of silver.  
  
"You look � good � Ray," Fraser said, finally releasing  
his grip.  
  
Ray scrubbed a hand through his hair and beamed up at the Mountie.   
"Jeez, Fraser, it's great to see you."  
  
The two men held each others gaze for long, silent moments and then Fraser's  
eyes shifted abruptly to a movement on the stairs behind Ray. Alerted  
by his lover's nearness long before Fraser's eyes slipped away, Ray turned,  
flashing a warm smile at Dan.  
  
He motioned for Dan to come closer, excitement making his eyes glitter.  
"Dan, this is an old friend of mine." He turned to introduce  
them, but Fraser was already extending his hand.  
  
"Sergeant Benton Fraser, Royal Canadian Mounted Police."  
  
Dan smiled warmly and shook the proffered hand. "Dan McKillop."  
  
"Sergeant?" Ray interrupted, bouncing slightly on the balls  
of his feet. "When did that happen?"  
  
"Two years ago. One of the Sergeants retired and as no-one wanted  
to take up a post in Moose Factory, they offered me a promotion."  
  
"That's great, man." Ray's eyes showed his sincerity. He  
turned again to Dan. "Fraser and I used to work together."  
  
Dan's eyes widened. "You and a Mountie? Where?"  
  
"In Chicago," Fraser explained. "You see, many years  
ago I went to Chicago on the trail of my father's killers and �  
"  
  
"He worked at the Canadian Consulate," Ray finished for him,  
"and we sorta got stuck working together."  
  
"Wow." Dan's eyes lit up. "That's a great idea for a  
script, don't you think? A Mountie stuck in Chicago. Think of the story  
lines."  
  
Ray shook his head affectionately and nudged Dan with his elbow. "Dan's  
a movie director. He thinks everything makes a good script."  
  
Fraser indicated the press at the foot of the stairs, now pestering another  
arrival in a limousine. "I saw the attention you received. I assume  
you're here for the Film Festival."  
  
Dan blushed slightly. "Yeah, they asked me to come and talk about  
my film."  
  
"You should come, Fraser. It's really great. Are you staying in  
Toronto long?"  
  
"Until tomorrow evening. I'm testifying at a courtcase. You remember  
Victoria Metcalfe?"  
  
Ray frowned, then nodded. "She's that woman � up on the mountain  
� the one you �"  
  
"Arrested?" Fraser suggested.  
  
"Yeah, arrested."  
  
No one spoke for a moment. Fraser straightened slightly, remembering  
the reason for his presence in Toronto.  
  
"Ah, well, I guess I should be going. I'm expected at the RCMP  
office for a briefing." He tipped his hat at Dan. "It was  
very nice meeting you. Good luck with your film."  
  
"Hey, listen, we're meeting a few people for drinks in the bar tonight.  
Why don't you join us?"  
  
Ray grabbed his arm. "Yeah, Fraser. What do you say?"  
  
Fraser stared into Ray's eyes and nodded. He could deny him nothing.  
"Perhaps I will." Filled with a sudden need to be away from  
this reminder of his past, he muttered his goodbyes and dashed down the  
stairs, leaving Ray and Dan staring after him.  
  
On the street he could breathe again. His reaction to seeing Ray so  
unexpectedly had sent him reeling. On the other side of the street a  
woman with a child in a pram provided the perfect distraction. She had  
just crossed the street and was having difficulty lifting her pram onto  
the sidewalk, her restless child unsettling a pile of packages on top.  
As soon as Fraser saw the child in danger of tipping over, he dashed  
across the street, heedless of the traffic. He reached the woman's side  
in time to stop the baby from toppling into the snow, gathering the parcels  
in one hand and steadying the walker in the other.  
  
The woman thanked him profusely, taking her parcels from him as he righted  
the pram and set it on the cleared path. He settled the child into his  
seat once again, bid the woman a good day and then turned to continue  
his journey to the RCMP office.  
  
"You don't change, do you?"  
  
Fraser spun on his heels to find Ray standing on the sidewalk next to  
him, hands tucked deeply into his coat pockets.  
  
"I can't change, Ray." Fraser looked across the street, but  
could see no sign of Dan. He stopped closer. "That was always  
the problem between us."  
  
Ray smiled sadly and looked down at his feet, his expensive boots now  
covered in snow. He kicked at them before answering. "Yeah, it  
was, wasn't it?"  
  
Lifting his stetson from his head, Fraser's sad smile matched Ray's.  
"I think about you from time to time."  
  
Ray nodded and looked off into the distance behind Fraser. "Are  
you still with that Indian?"  
  
"Eli? Yes." He looked at his hands as they twisted the brim  
of his hat. "And the preferred term in Native American, although  
Eli is actually Canadian and that technically makes him a Native Canadian,  
but then I don't think �" He looked up and met Ray's steely  
blue eyes. "That's what you hated about me, isn't it?"  
  
"I never hated you, Fraser." He lifted one hand and briefly  
squeezed Fraser's around the brim of his hat. "Is he good to you?"  
  
"Ray �"  
  
"Yeah, of course he's good to you. People are always good to you.  
They can't be anything else." Ray looked into the distance again.  
"Are you happy?"  
  
"Yes, Ray. Very happy." His voice lowered to a barely audible  
whisper. "I love him."  
  
Ray pursed his lips and nodded, still looking away.  
  
"What about you? Dan seems very nice."  
  
Ray made an amused snort. "He'd hate to hear you call him 'nice'."  
He met Fraser's eyes again. "Dan's just � great � he  
makes me �" His voice trailed off.  
  
"I know, I could see." There was a hint of regret in his voice.  
"How long have you been together?"  
  
"Bit more than a year." Ray laughed suddenly, his eyes twinkling  
with some memory. "It was Frannie who introduced us. She was dating  
some actor guy who knows Dan and I went to a party with them and well  
� you know how it goes �"  
  
Fraser gave a smile that said he didn't know how it went, but he understood  
anyway.  
  
"So do you think �? I mean � is this �?" He  
wanted to ask if Dan was 'the one' but thought suddenly that it sounded  
trite.  
  
Tilting his head to hide his embarrassment, Ray smiled shyly. "Yeah,  
I think so." Kicking at a pile of snow he said softly. "But  
I still think about you, you know."  
  
Fraser nodded. He knew.  
  
"I mean, I think how we were back then and how we could have been."  
  
Fraser thought about his own experience and what had passed since Ray  
had left him in Tuktoyaktuk all those years ago. What he and Ray had  
shared back then was so very different to what he now had with Eli and  
he acknowledged, with some sadness, that he had never caused a smile  
like the one Ray gave when he looked at Dan. Fraser knew there was a  
gaping, yawning difference between what they both seemed to have found  
now and what they had shared in the past.  
  
Fraser smiled sadly and fidgeted with his stetson. "That was the  
way we were. We were � we were what we needed to be for each other  
then." He paused and looked across the street to the hotel where  
another limousine had arrived and was being flocked by the reporters.  
When he spoke again, his voice had a faraway sound. "What we weren't  
� what we weren't � is the way we are now."  
  
This time Ray smiled sadly and pushed his hands further into his pockets.  
Lowering his head, he looked up at Fraser through his long lashes. "Funny  
thing, Fraser, I actually understood what you meant just now."  
  
For reasons he could not explain, Fraser suddenly found his eyes filled  
with tears.  
  
"You won't come tonight, will you?" Ray asked, his voice gentle  
and sad.  
  
"I can't, Ray." Fraser's voice was low and strained. "You  
understand."  
  
Ray nodded. "Yeah, I wouldn't want to see you with that In �  
with Eli, either." He stepped forward, closing the distance between  
them and suddenly enfolded Fraser in a hug. "We don't want to see  
the way we weren't."  
  
They held each other for long, long minutes and when they finally stepped  
apart, both men wiped at moisture under their eyes.  
  
"Goodbye, Ray," Fraser said solemnly. "It was lovely  
to see you again."  
  
"Yeah, you too, Fraser."  
  
They held each other's gaze for another long moment and then Fraser smiled  
sadly, replaced his stetson on his head, nodded at Ray then turned on  
his heel, striding away confidently, his head held high. Suddenly, the  
prospect of seeing Ray Vecchio and Victoria Metcalfe no longer seemed  
so daunting.  
  
Ray watched until Fraser's uniform was a red blur, then turned and crossed  
the street, determined not to start whistling any Barbra Streisand songs.  
  
  



End file.
